


It Happened Once In A Dream

by WeSaveWhoWeCanSaveToday



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Kissing, Bellarke, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeSaveWhoWeCanSaveToday/pseuds/WeSaveWhoWeCanSaveToday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clarke has a dream and has the best sleep she’s had in months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Happened Once In A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the most coherent dreams I think anyone has ever had, so please take the lack of nonsensical-ness with a grain of salt and some poetic licence! :)
> 
> I listened to Strawberry Swing by Coldplay when writing this, if you want to get in the spirit I was in!

The sun was so bright, it reflected in each blade of the summer green grass that grew beneath Clarke’s feet. It shone out proudly, a white-yellow beacon in a clear blue sky, and the warmth she felt on her arms as she walked made her skin sing. It was a perfect day.

As she walked across the meadow, up towards the peak of a small hill, she revelled in the open air. The forest was beautiful and it was home now, but the openness of the grass and the sky was unlike anything she’d ever known. She’d gone from being cooped up in a metal tin to being cooped up in amongst trees as tall as turbines; thus far, she’d found no place where she could run freely, or sit in the sun and gaze up at the open sky.

But now there was this place, and it was as amazing as she’d imagined all the way up on the Ark. She raised a hand to shield her brow as she looked up at the sky – were they looking down at them now? She pictured in her mind a time in a non-existing place, when she’d be here with her mother and her father, eating and laughing, throwing a ball back and forth, letting the sun soak into their sun. Clarke smiled at the thought.

Something brushed her elbow, bringing Clarke back down to earth. She turned to see what it was – who it was.

Bellamy stood, a look of concern in his eyes and a nervous smile on his perfectly sculpted lips.

“You okay, Clarke?” he asked, and Clarke nodded, smiling. She reached her hand out to lace her pale fingers through his tanned ones, and his smile relaxed into something that made Clarke melt. She grinned back, and together they continued walking to the peak of the hill.

All around them, birds sang and chirped, and a slight breeze brushed the grass as it sighed and swayed. Behind Clarke and Bellamy, the sounds of the gang – Jasper and Monty, tossing a make-shift Frisbee between themselves, laughing as they went. Raven arguing with Finn, though Clarke could hear their smiles in their flirty back and forth. Octavia squealing as she rocketed past Bellamy and Clarke on Lincoln’s back.

In no time at all, though still few minutes behind Lincoln and Octavia, the rest of the gang reached the top of the hill. Clarke stopped and inhaled sharply – it was beautiful. The others got busy laying down blankets and setting out packets of protein paste and nuts and berries they’d collected; Monty was positioning an umbrella Raven had crafted so Jasper could sit in the shade (he burned too easily, he said). Bellamy was messing around with Octavia while Lincoln was busy setting up a campfire a few metres away from the picnic blanket, for when it got dark later on.

But Clarke stared out at all she could see. Miles and miles of green forest, birds soaring and diving in and out of the treeline. The ghosts of clouds turned the deep blue sky a shade paler in some areas, but the blend of colour between the blues and the greens of the forest made Clarke wish she’d brought more than just a graphite pencil to do some sketches with. Still, it was magnificent enough she could take a mental photograph to draw when they got back to the dropship.

“Hey, Clarke, come and get some food.” Finn called, once again breaking Clarke out of her daydream.

“Just admiring the view.” She replied, as she caught up to the picnickers, and dropped down next to Bellamy. He looped his arm over her shoulder as she leant in for a kiss.

“Finn said food, not face.” Jasper quipped, throwing a nut at Clarke. Bellamy caught it in mid-air with his spare hand, and threw it straight back at Jasper with a grin.

“Shut up and enjoy your nuts, Jasper.” He retorted, which caused the group to laugh.

They spent the entire afternoon laughing and eating. Lincoln taught Octavia (and pretty much everyone else, who were listening in) how to say the names of the different things in his language, telling her how to describe the sky, or the grass, or the taste of the food (which wasn’t as pleasant as the first two things).

When everyone had eaten all they wanted, the mention of a game was tossed around, and soon two teams were formed for a game of Frisbee. Bellamy, Raven, Octavia and Monty on one side, with Clarke, Finn, Lincoln and Jasper on the other. They played for a good hour, and by the end of the game, almost no-one was wearing a shirt (physical exertion added to the heat of the sun at midday made shirts optional). Raven, Bellamy, Octavia and Finn had become incredibly competitive about it, and Finn wasn’t happy when Clarke, Lincoln and Jasper made the decision to surrender.

Clarke settled down into a particularly comfortable patch of grass, and took the sketchbook and pencil from her bag. She flicked to an empty page, and looked around for inspiration.

It didn’t take long for her gaze to find the perfect subject: Bellamy Blake. He was still playing (the Blake siblings versus Finn and Raven), and, much to Clarke’s enjoyment, he was still playing shirtless.

The hard lines of his muscular torso, and the soft curves of his shoulders and his biceps flowed easily from the tip of Clarke’s pencil. Her attention to detail tripled when she began detailing his face, and she didn’t really need a model, she felt like she knew it so well.

The curve of his jaw, with the little dimple of his chin made her smile as she shaded it in. The perfect, sharp cupid’s bow of his upper lip, paired with the full bottom lip made her think about how soft and delicious they were beneath her own lips, when they kissed.

Moving up to his nose, Clarke took care to perfectly capture each one of his beautiful freckles. His nose was slightly broad and flat, and he didn’t like to admit it but Bellamy felt self-conscious about it. Clarke thought it was perfectly proportioned with the rest of his features, and she liked to peck the end of it to let him know what she felt about it. On the paper, Clarke thought it was a masterpiece.

She took extra time on the eyes. Bellamy’s eyes, to her, were the most beautiful thing about him. They were so reflective, so unguarded, Clarke felt like she could read his mind when she looked into them.

When they first landed, there was a hardness to them, mixed with arrogance and humour. But since then, she’d spent enough time with him, enough _hard_ times with him, that she’d seen the shades of concern, terror, anger, joy, humour and smugness in them, alongside so many other emotions, Clarke felt like she could spend the rest of her life drawing them.

But this time, she settled for the look in his eyes when he looked at her. It was a look that was so tender, so content, and was always accompanied by a smile. Just thinking about it made her insides tighten, and she glanced up at him. He was mid-throw, and as he released, he looked over at her. They were so in sync, it scared Clarke sometimes.

But there it was – it was a boyish smile, the ends of his mouth curling up and his eyes creasing up, so full of love. She smiled back and he returned to his game, just as the disk came flying at his chest.

Clarke chuckled and looked back down at her drawing, taking the utmost care to make the shape and shade of his eyes perfect.

When she was satisfied, she filled in his dark eyebrows, relaxing above his eyes. She began to draw out his hair, relishing each curl as it flicked across his forehead, or out from the crown of his head. Curly hair was a pain in the ass to draw, she thought, but when she finished, she decided it was worth the pain.

Looking up at her from the page was her perfect Bellamy.

She hadn’t realised, in the concentration she’d focused on getting the curls and waves of his dishevelled mop just right, that it had grown darker than before, and the games had ceased. Lincoln was lighting the fire (it was pretty early for it, but Monty and Jasper had gathered a _huge_ pile of sticks they could keep it alive with), and everyone was nibbling on the leftover food while they gathered around it.

“He looks handsome.” Bellamy said as he appeared over Clarke’s shoulder. His voice rumbled in his chest, pressed to Clarke’s back, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Not as good as the real thing, though.” She replied, tilting so that she could kiss her co-leader.

She meant it to be a peck, but she should have known better – every kiss she shared with Bellamy made it difficult to stop. Their lips pressed together so perfectly, the electricity sparking between them, Clarke could hardly stop herself as she turned towards him so she could deepen the kiss.

The others were busy by the fire, they didn’t really notice Clarke and Bellamy sitting several metres behind them, so Clarke wasn’t really that worried as she placed her book on the floor so could run her hands through Bellamy’s hair.

It was so soft beneath her fingertips, and the movement made him part his lips in a tiny moan that made Clarke feel all mushy. He put his hands on her hips and flicked his tongue across her lips, inviting her to open them. She did, and darted her own tongue out, pressing it gently against his own.

He ran his hands up her back, making Clarke’s skin come up in goose-bumps beneath her shirt, to tangle one in her beautiful blonde hair, one resting possessively on her neck, his fingertips brushing her jaw.

Clarke pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled gently, releasing it as he ran the tip of his tongue just under her top lip.

“Get a room!” someone yelled from the fire, followed by laughter as a couple of “Oooh!”s rang out, and Clarke and Bellamy broke apart with a laugh. They laughed even harder as, perfectly in unison, they looked up at the group and held up their middle fingers.

The group turned back to the fire as Clarke and Bellamy turned back to each other, and just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. Bellamy brushed his thumb over Clarke’s cheek, and Clarke turned her head with the motion of his thumb to plant the gentlest of kisses on the palm of his hand.

He lent forward and rested his forehead against Clarke’s, and they closed their eyes as their noses brushed each other. They didn’t kiss, they simply breathed in each other’s air for a few seconds.

Clarke sighed contentedly, and kissed Bellamy on his nose with a smile, before standing up. She held her hand out for Bellamy, who took it willingly, and stood up. He kept her hand in his and let her lead him over to the fire – it was finally getting dark enough to warrant a fire, now – where they flopped down next to each other, fingers still laced together, and tried to click into the conversation that was already happening.

They spent what felt like forever sitting by the fire, watching as pale blue sky turned to dark blue, and the sun was replaced by stars that were much farther away, and much nicer to look at. When the fire was going low, everyone laid out and stared up at the sky. Clarke’s head was resting on Bellamy’s chest, his hand playing with her hair, her hand resting on his leg. He was telling everyone about all the different constellations – Octavia offered up a few bits of information that Bellamy had forgotten, since he’d already told her all about them before. Clarke knew she’d be happy if she could stay there forever, surrounded by friends, listening to the sound of Bellamy’s voice as he explained the stars to her.

The sky dissolved, and she blinked, panicking – what was happening? When she reopened her eyes, she was staring at the roof of her tent, her eyes blurred by sleep. She made a sound of discontent and rubbed at her face, but the dream wouldn’t come back.

Sighing angrily, she rested her arm over her eyes, willing herself to go back, to get back into the dream. But no matter how she imagined it, it didn’t feel as real as it had before.

She resigned herself to consciousness, and opened her eyes, trying to picture what she could of what she’d dreamed.

Sitting up, she grabbed her sketchbook and began sketching every image she could remember, as the details began to fade as her neurons woke up.

All her friends sitting around, carefree and relaxed? That wasn’t likely to happen for a long time, if ever. Dream journaling wasn’t something she usually did, but a dream as lovely and relaxing as that was something she definitely wanted to remember.

Well, maybe Clarke didn’t want to remember everything. Her heart leapt into overdrive as the memory of kissing – _kissing Bellamy_ came flooding back into her memory. She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that she’d dreamed it in the first place, the fact that now it felt real, or the fact that _she’d enjoyed it_! She took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing her hand across her forehead.

What did that mean? Psychologically? She tried to remember anything she’d picked up from medical training.

But psychodynamic psychology wasn’t part of the syllabus, and no solid, scientific explanations sprang into her mind.

 _It’s fine, it’s probably just because you spend so much time with him, he’s imprinted on your subconscious mind_ , she tried to reassure herself. _But why was I subconsciously_ kissing _him?!_

Before she could begin to answer that question, someone “knocked” on the flap of her tent. Or rather, they moved the fabric and cleared their throat. Either way, it made Clarke jump.

“Clarke, you up?”

Clarke’s heart instantly rose into her throat as the memory of the dream flooded her mind.

“Uh – just a sec!” Clarke called, and she could hear the tension in her own voice.

She forced down a couple of deep lungfuls of air, got dressed as quickly as possible, and then went to meet Bellamy at the door, pushing aside all memories of any kisses that did not happen.

When she stepped outside, she realised just how late in the morning it was. Normally she was one of the first up – the stresses of keeping 100 or so kids alive tended to make her sleep light and restless. But seeing the sun above the trees, and kids milling about, sent her into panic mode.

“What – what time is it?” she asked, looking at Bellamy for the first time. Unnervingly, her gaze went from his eyes to his lips, and images of them pressed against her own flashed across her memory. She quickly averted her gaze to the dropship, as she began to march over to it.

“About 10. I would have woken you up earlier, but I don’t think you’ve slept this long since we landed. I thought you deserved it.” He replied, following her inside. A couple of kids bombarded her immediately with complaints, and she sent them to go and sit down while she prepared what she needed to help them.

 _Damn it, why do you have to be so thoughtful? Why can’t you be an ass like normal_ , she thought, going to pour some moonshine over her hands to sterilise them before she began any examinations.

“That’s thoughtful of you, but in future, I’d prefer it if I was woken up earlier, so I can get to work.” She said, a in tone of voice a few degrees cooler than usual. _Maybe if you’d woken me up earlier, I wouldn’t have dreamed about… that._

“…Are you okay?” Bellamy asked, frowning. He noticed the drop in temperature, which was odd since he and Clarke had been getting along since they’d come back from their day trip. He thought he had been making progress, but… maybe he’d overestimated it.

“I’m fine. Is there anything else or can I get on with my work?” she snapped, and turned to look at him with her hand on her hips and her eyebrows raised. He was too busy being confused about the sudden change in her behaviour, to notice the shade of pink that spread across her cheeks.

“Don’t let me get in your way.” He retorted, just as coolly, before turning to march out of the dropship. Clarke watched him go with a twinge of guilt, which she took out on the wall of the dropship with a slight kick.

With a forced smile and a couple of deep breaths, she walked over to the delinquent. She could put the dream behind her, and she and Bellamy could return to being normal co-leaders, without any imagined undertones Clarke could now feel.

And if not, well… she would deal with it. But later – for now, she had kids to take care of.

“What can I do for you?” Clarke asked her first patient, her mind focused on the task at hand, expertly pushing aside any other thoughts as she began her day.


End file.
